Endless : The Diary Of A Nigerian Orphan - Episode 9

 

I am the only one in my cubicle savoring precious times with my energetic friend -my voice. It is telling me to speak up or live my life downside. It is warning me about the so much injustice and insults that I have endured- it emphasizes that when I keep mute like this, I would lose my self esteem and the future- will to speak and think for myself. 
“No! NO! NO! I don’t want to ever lose them”, I heard myself say as I sat up, blinking my eyes several times. I struggled to sit up on an empty stomach . It’s been three days now, that I have been denied of lunch and dinner. I am only given breakfasts, so that I can muster the strengths to do my daily chores- cooking, sweeping, washing clothes/plates, and above all fetching countless buckets of water from the well in the neighborhood. Even the will to do what my energetic friend is saying, is weak. My energetic friend is still talking, when I summoned the courage to face Mrs Ojo at the verandah. Through, the sitting room window, I saw them, sitting quietly as they listened to the vote of thanks of the child commedianne. Suddenly, they were all looking calm , especially Mrs Ojo, who seems to be musing about something. 
Yes! This is just the best time to approach. At least, no body is looking serious

All episodes of this story can be found here >> https://www.ebonystory.com/story/endless-the-diary-of-a-nigerian-orphan

. I picked my steps at the passageway, but abruptly stop when I lost count of my heartbeats,(that’s is), my heartbeat is beating faster than normal.
“go on. Do it, yes you can. This would be the beginning of a new dawn”, my energetic friend whispers.
“really, would I have a new name as opposed to the word ‘thief’? “, I asked. “would there really be a change of living in me? Would Deesay live the life that she has always wanted?”
When my energetic friend did not give reply. I stepped out boldly, walking directly to Mrs Ojo.
“what do you want?”, she angrily hissed. I have not even gotten to her very point. Yet, she detests me from an inches of ten.
“oh!” I sighed, making up my mind to tell her all that I have been keeping in my mind. I won’t say much, because all that I would ever want is summed up in only a sentence. 
“give me a space in your mind to express my voice. Grant my voice an audience. Lessen your voice trampling and hear the real me!”, I confidently demanded. Ignoring the weird stare from Andrian.
“how dare you? What do you ever mean? What would you ever become?”, Mrs Ojo fired back but not without a smack on my cheek.
“mum! You shouldn’t have smacked her. That was just too bad”, Andrian charged.
“agreed. But can’t you see the way she had talked back at mum. Or is mum her mate?”, Andrian returned.
“who is talking about mate here, can’t you think properly for once?”, Osas shot back.
My eyes burned blazing hot as I seemed to be back from hell. In that short span of rude shock, I saw myself thrown into the Enemy’s furnace and bounced back to life.
“this hurts so much”, I staggered. But that didn’t hurt as much as she dragged by my dress, exposing my bare thighs to full glare.
“you this idiot! Who do you think you are, tonight you will leave my house. I care no more”, Mrs Ojo shouted. As her hands created waves of pains around my body.
“stop now! Mummy , I said you should stop!”, Osas worked between us, to pull me from the stocky frame of his mother. “mummy, don’t kill her now. She is someone daughter”
“her parents are dead”, Andrian guffawed.
“so!”
I wobbled on my two legs as excruciating pains burn through me. I tasted my own blood, because my lips had started to bleed.
“where can I sit?”, I thought, as my balance wavered continuously. Mrs Ojo and her son, Osas are still arguing about me. Only Andrian trails me and hurl hurtful jibes at me.
“Andrian why?”, I tasted my blood again.
“produce all the thousand naira notes that you have stolen. Produce them for my mother”, he taunts. 
I didn’t reply him, because there is no use. If I ever stole all those money accrued to me, would I starve? Would I be wishy-washy about the things that I do not have?